


create me otherwise.

by aceface



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-12
Updated: 2010-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-10 12:43:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceface/pseuds/aceface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cook and Archuleta have always been girls. They still find a way to meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	create me otherwise.

"So hey," the girl (woman? Archie isn't -- she doesn't really know the, uh, correct word to use here) drawls, one hand on the wall above Archie's head as she leans down. "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" She raises an eyebrow in a way that seems calculated and doesn't wait for Archie to reply before adding, "Got any ID?"

"Oh my _gosh_," Archie squeaks out, because, okay, it hadn't been _totally_ weird to think that the girl might have been hitting on her. But no, it's just the same thing as everything else, looking young and naive and _stupid_, and she's not, this isn't a _phase_. She's old enough to know what she wants. "I'm not -- forget it, I don't wanna be here anyway."

She starts to stomp off, realising too late that she isn't doing much to get rid of the stupid teenager image, and tugs her ID out of her back pocket (and if the older girl's eyes seem drawn to Archie's -- her _ass_, she can say it, well, anyway, it'd just about serve her right). "And," she says, maybe a little more triumphantly than she means to, "I'm twenty one. So there."

"Well," the girl says, and a smirk curls around the corner of her mouth. "You sure told me." Her hand is resting lightly on Archie's arm and Archie isn't exactly sure when that happened, but she's already used to the warm weight of it. "I guess that means I owe you a drink."

"Yes," Archie says firmly, ignoring the stutter threatening to escape. "You do."

-

"So," Cook explains, after awkward introductions ("Yeah, I'm called -- well, I just go by my surname, really," "Oh, wow! Me too!"), "It's not -- there's no guidebook or manual, or anything, but... I'm assuming you're pretty new at this, right?"

"Pretty new at -- at being gay?" Archie asks hesitantly because, um, she's kind of been gay all her life, it's not like she just decided to pick up a new hobby or anything.

"Well," Cook starts, like she's going to say something else, and then she shrugs and says, "Yeah, I guess."

Archie frowns in spite of herself and says, "Um, no. I've been gay all my life, actually, and I kind of thought most people were. Just because I'm, like, from -- from _Utah_, it doesn't mean I'm like a _closet-case_."

"No, hey, c'mon, I didn't mean that," Cook says, after a few minutes of Archie glaring at her and not much else. "I just mean, being here, you don't look like you've been working the scene very long."

And, okay, Archie will give her that. The bar's dim and smoky and most of the women there have short hair and bottles of beer -- Cook included, but she has a smile and doesn't look like she'll threaten to take Archie in a fight as some weird foreplay -- and Archie stands out more than a little, in a summer dress and boots. The boots are her one concession, and she's had them forever but she loves them.

The point is, Archie does look kind of young and naive, but she _likes_ having long hair and wearing dresses, so she's not gonna change that. She just likes girls as well, and apparently liking girls in LA is a bit different to liking girls in Utah (mainly because she can actually come out and say it here, but still).

"I thought I'd give you some tips," Cook says, still in that weird quiet voice, like Archie's some frightened animal that she's trying not to frighten away or something. Archie would complain, she really would, but she's given out the stupid kid impression enough for now and besides, tips... tips would be nice.

"You mean like rules?" she asks, sceptical, but Cook laughs.

"No, not like rules. I just mean stuff that it'd be good for you to know, I think. Like, never order drinks from that barman; he's a sleaze," she says, nodding at the tall guy behind the bar. "Or which clubs aren't gay friendly. And which girls to avoid, ‘cause they're just trying to pick you up and have nothing but sex on their minds."

"Oh, is that last one you?" Archie asks, widening her eyes and making the innocent kid thing work for her.

Cook blinks, taken aback, before a smile spreads over her face. "Nice try, Arch, but you're not going to get rid of me that easily."

-

"Do you think," Archie asks hesitantly, as she feels a blade of grass tickle the back of her neck and resists the urge to squirm away (because that's just what Cook _wants_), "we'd still be -- you know, if we were boys?"

"Boys?" Cook repeats, amused, but she gives the question due consideration anyway. "Well, I wouldn't be gay, if that's what you mean. I'm pretty sure I'd still like girls."

"But if I was a boy and so were you," Archie persists, "you wouldn't still like me?"

Cook raises herself up on an elbow, scrutinising Archie. "What's all this about?"

"I don't know. I just... wondered."

"I like _you_," Cook says, grinning. "I like your eyelashes and your headbands and your summer dresses. So if you're a boy but still planning to retain all those then, sure. I'd go straight for you."

"I could still wear all those as a boy," Archie says stubbornly and Cook laughs as she crawls over, tipping Archie onto her back and holding herself up above her.

"You could," she agrees solemnly.

-

"Hey, sweetheart!" Archie blinks, a little confused, and then looks behind her, because -- why would that guy be talking to _her_? Cook's just gone to the bathroom for, like, one moment, but -- it's pretty obvious they're together. The bar is a gay-friendly one, there are like a ton of couples here, and this guy looks a little out of place.

She's wary of going over to him but it doesn't seem to matter, he grabs his beer and heads over, standing at the side of her booth and grinning. It's not like Cook's grin, though, it doesn't put her at ease, and even though Archie tells herself that she's totally grown up now... she still can't help hoping that Cook will come back soon.

"Hey, baby," he says again, waiting for a response, and Archie wrinkles her nose and says, "Um, sorry, but I'm with someone?" It comes out sounding like more of a question than she means it to, and the guy takes it as an invitation to slide in the seat opposite her. Archie frowns, her mouth turning down at the corners and says, "That's my -- my girlfriend's seat."

It feels good saying it out loud -- a novelty she's not sure she'll ever get used to -- but it again makes no difference to the guy. 

"Yeah, I know," he says, pausing to take a sip of his beer. "I wanted to ask you about that, actually. What's a cute thing like you doing with her?"

"I like her," Archie says promptly, because, hi, is this guy stupid? Cook is gorgeous and funny and cool and, honestly, Archie's more likely to wonder what Cook's doing with _her_ than the other way around.

"Why?" the guy asks again, and doesn't want for an answer before leaning over the table. "If you want a man, there's one right here."

"Well, I clearly don't want a man!" Archie splutters. She feels angry and annoyed and upset, all at once, and she's praying that she's not going to cry in front of this jerk. The table top feels sticky under her elbows and she kind of wants to punch the guy in his stupid jerky face, especially when his grin widens and he says, "Don't give me that—"

"Hey." Cook's standing at the side of her, confused, and staring at the guy. It's like a _miracle_ and Archie clenches her fists to hide the way her hands are shaking. "Is this guy bothering you?"

"Um, _yes_," Archie says straight away, glaring as hard as she can. "He's a jerk, I don't -- " She stands up, grabbing Cook's hand and says, "We were leaving, anyway. Because -- I don't like the people here. So there." She's almost passed the booth when she turns back, narrowing her eyes and says, "_Jerk_."

Cook's smiling as they leave but there's no real humour in it, just confusion, and Archie's too preoccupied with turning back to make sure the guy isn't, like, following them to really notice until Cook says, "So, why exactly did we leave?"

"Because that guy was a jerk," Archie says firmly, but now there's an edge of amusement in Cook's smile as she says, "Yeah, I gathered that much."

-

"What is this?" Archie barely glances over to see what Cook's holding -- old and pink, and Archie's face flushes in spite of herself as she races over to snatch it out of Cook's hand.

"That is Bilbean, okay, and he does not appreciate being held like that." Bilbean is a stuffed rabbit that Archie's had since she was small and she was in two minds as to whether she should bring it with her when she moved in, but she couldn't give Bilbean up. She couldn't just _abandon_ him, he's been with her longer than Cook has, after all, and just. That would be unfair. It still doesn't mean that she particularly wanted Cook to see him, though.

"Okay," Cook says, holding her hands up and her amusement is evident on her face. "Give Bilbean my apologies."

Archie huffs in response, stomping past Cook to place Bilbean in a drawer by the bed and making a mental note to actually apologise to him later -- when Cook isn't around. "I'm not a child," she says, and Cook says, "Wow, it's like the first time we met all over again. Maybe I should've asked to see your rabbit instead of your ID."

"Maybe you were a _jerk_," Archie says instead, but there's no real heat in her voice and she doesn't pull away when Cook finds her hand and sits on the bed next to her. "It's just -- this is a big deal, and, you know, I like -- I don't want to be someone different now, I'm still me, even if..." She doesn't finish that sentence, doesn't mention about her parents not answering her calls or Jazzy's letters arriving less and less frequently. Cook squeezes her hand gently, and Archie feels a little better. Maybe.

"You know I love you, right?" Cook says softly. "Whatever you decide to do."

"I -- gosh, yes, I -- you don't have to!" Archie says, flustered. "This is my decision, this is it, being here, with you. I don't -- nowhere else."

"Nowhere else," Cook repeats, stroking the back of Archie's hair, and this is love, when Cook can understand Archie's non-sentences. It must be.

-

Cook doesn't get on American Idol. They say it's because she's just not what they're looking for, but the faint grimace on the producer's face as she takes in Cook's fauxhawk and plaid shirt says it all. Archie gets through to the next round, but the light touch of her summer dress around her knees feels like a betrayal and she makes out with Cook in front of the cameras.

"You know you're not what they're looking for anymore," Cook says into her ear.

"I don't want it like that," Archie replies, and she forgot how to lie to Cook a long time ago.

-

"I was thinking about what you were saying, you know," Cook says later, when Archie's wondering if Cook would laugh at her if she got out of bed to put a shirt on, or her pajamas. It's not that she's self-conscious anymore, no matter what Cook says, it's just that she doesn't really feel comfortable being naked in bed. What if there was a fire alarm? And she might not have time to find clothes and it's not like she wants to be running around _naked_ if there's a _fire_\--

"Hey," Cook says, nudging her, and Archie takes the moment to roll out of bed and pull a t-shirt on.

The bed's familiar and warm when she climbs back in, and she can't help wishing for just a second that her family could see her right now, before she realises what Cook said. "About what?"

"About if we were boys," Cook says seriously, although she can't help making a face and adding, "thank God we're not though."

"Um, okay," Archie says, in her best _I'm humouring you_ tone. "I said that, like, forever ago, but okay. Is that it?"

"Of course that's not it." Cook sighs, tipping her head back against the pillow. "I just, I take it back. I wouldn't need your dresses or headbands, although -- yeah, the eyelashes are a deal breaker."

"You don't like my dresses anymore?" Archie asks, confused, and Cook laughs all snuffly and snorty.

"I like _you_, that's what I'm trying to say. Just, you could be, like, the kind of guy I hate and I'd still go all stupid around you. I just wanted you to know that."

"You're silly," Archie says contentedly, rolling over and burying her face in Cook's shoulder. They stay there in silence for a few moments longer, Archie just listening to the rise and fall of Cook's breathing. "I like you too, though. Just so you know."

Cook's breathing hitches slightly, but she doesn't move. "I know."


End file.
